What did you expect?
He walked up to the house and opened the door, marveling that the two women never locked anything.
Maybe the ghosts protected them, he mused, because the two women in charge of the estate and the family fortune were too trusting, too open. They were bound to get burned at some time. It was amazing that it hadn't happened already.
Emilie was as generous and open a person as he had ever met. She had a loving and passionate heart that, obviously, even a failed marriage hadn't taught her to protect.
As for the town thinking that they were an item, he dismissed that easily enough. In two weeks, when he returned to his own home, the talk would die away and they would go about their lives again as though it had never happened. Everything about Emilie was fodder for talk in town. People would get over it.
Nick was ashamed that he had lost control with her that night. He knew that she was willing to give of both herself and her resources. He was already taking advantage of her staying there with the children, letting her buy them things to make them happy.
He wouldn't allow himself to take anything else from her. He had nothing to give her in return. She had everything she could possibly want or need. Everything money could buy.
He sighed tiredly as he walked up the stairs to his room. No one had been seriously injured in the wreck on the Interstate, even though several cars had been involved in the mess. Randy hadn’t really needed him.
Yet he couldn't help but feel that it was the best thing that could have happened for him. He'd been called away before he could make a fool of himself, and of Emilie.
It wouldn't happen again, he determined, looking at the fierce lions in the foyer with their red hats and white beards. Santa and his reindeer hailed him as he climbed the rose marble stairs.
The house was fraught with ghosts. Loneliness hung about, like the cobwebs in the dining room. Emilie had aptly described herself and her aunt as little mice hiding in the big house. They weren't enough together to push back the stories of the lost brides and the memories that haunted the high-ceilinged rooms.
Nick wouldn't add to Emilie’s sadness, or be the one to take away that piece of mind that protected her and her home. No matter that she looked like an angel and had lips like flower petals. It didn’t matter that her eyes had set fire to his soul.
He opened the door to Adam's room to check on the boy before he went to bed. Adam's bed was empty. Nick stifled that impulse to panic, as he had with Amber. The boy was there somewhere. He went into Amber's room to see if he'd gone to be with her and found that Amber's bed was empty too.
They were there somewhere. They'd probably already been through the entire house. He was more likely to get more lost than they were. He started back down the hall and noticed that Emilie's door was left open a crack.
Peeking around the door, promising himself that he would only ask if she knew where the kids were, he glanced in and saw the three asleep in her bed.
Amber was laying against her shoulder on the right, sucking her thumb with one hand while she grasped Emilie's nightgown with the other. Adam was on the other side, his face pushed into Emilie's arm, his head barely above the lacy comforter.
Nick stood for a moment, looking at them. He wondered how they'd come to be in that inviting position and wished that he could climb in beside them. Then he shook his head, reminding himself again that he didn't belong there.
A slight creak in one corner alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone studying the occupants of the bed.
"Sad they all have suffered so," Joda proclaimed in a whisper that reminded him of dry leaves on frozen ground.
"Yes," he agreed softly, gazing at Emilie's face.
"It could be made right," Joda told him. "It could all be made right."
"How?"
"You know the answer in your heart.”
He started to walk around the foot of the bed, to demand that she stop being so cryptic. The rocking chair was empty. The rockers creaked one last time, but no one was there.
The spell broken, Nick left the children where they were and went to his own bed. He expected to fall asleep at once since he was exhausted, but he found himself staring at the ceiling long into the early morning hours.
Chapter Ten
Emilie woke up late the next morning. Two children were still pressed against her. Her right side was slightly damp where Amber's diaper had leaked.
This was the reality of having a small child, she reminded herself, struggling to free herself from their embrace.
"Good morning," Nick greeted her, helping her by taking Amber's limp body from that side of the bed.
"Good morning," Emilie returned, her hand going immediately to her hair. It felt like it was standing up on top of her head. "I guess I slept late."
Amber was awake and clinging to Nick. She was smiling up into his face.
"That's what happens when you get up at night with kids," he told her. "I found that out a long time ago. I bought a much louder, more persistent, alarm clock."
Emilie gazed at him, forgetting for a moment her resolve of the night before. He was dressed in a dark flannel shirt and jeans. His hair was still damp from the shower and he was freshly shaved. There was the hint of a dimple in one lean cheek that echoed Amber's twin dimples.
"I suppose it was a big adjustment to make from single, to single parent."
"It was," he agreed without hesitation. "They're a big responsibility when you're used to only thinking for yourself. It changes your whole life."
"But you did it." She wished she could make him understand that she would gladly take on that responsibility. "You're not sorry, are you?"
"Not at all." He kissed Amber's pretty curls. "I'm going to change this wet diaper." He eyed her right side. "That's one of the hazards of sleeping with them. It's a pretty funky feeling, huh?"
She nodded, not wanting to move the damp side of her body. "I'll get Adam up and send him in to get dressed."
"Thanks," he said. Thanks for everything, Emilie. The kids are always going to remember this Christmas."
She smiled, but didn't trust herself to speak. She waited until he walked out of her room to shake Adam gently and call his name.
"Hi," he said as though he'd been awake the whole time.
"No more nightmares?" she asked.
"No. I dreamed about getting a bike for Christmas."
"That's pretty good."
"What do you want?"
"What do I want?" she repeated.
"For Christmas. You must want something.”
Emilie considered all of the things she wanted—Amber, Adam's happiness, a house full of life and laughter, Nick—
She stopped her rambling thoughts there and considered Adam's question. "I'd like to have someone draw me a picture that I could hang on my wall right there." She pointed to an empty space near her dresser.
"A picture of what?" he eagerly asked.
"I don't know. Something colorful."
"Maybe flowers or a rainbow," he suggested.
"Adam?" Nick called from the next room.
"Coming," Adam answered. "I have to go and get dressed. Are we going to look for the Christmas tree today?"
"As soon as we eat breakfast,” she replied with a smile.
She stripped down her bed, shivering in the chill dampness of her nightgown. Funky wasn't an adequate feeling for waking up wet. If she was going to let Amber sleep with her very often while she was there, she mused, she was going to have to buy better diapers and a plastic sheet to protect her mattress.
Humming, Emilie stripped off her gown and walked into the shower, letting the hot water wash away that wet diaper feeling. She washed her hair and let the hot water sluice across her head. She felt much better by the time she was done.
She got dressed in a warm white sweater and soft jeans, putting on heavy socks and knee boots. She dried her hair and pulled it back from her face with a careless hand,
She looked in the mirror and heard Nick's voice ask her again what she saw when she looked in at herself, hearing him tell her that she was beautiful. She studied the high cheekbones and angular nose, wide lips and feathery eyebrows. It was an ordinary face, she decided. It was just something to say. Even David hadn't paid her that sort of abundant compliment.
She paused halfway down the steps, a wave of intense loneliness washing over her, threatening to engulf her. She had to make Nick understand that she loved and wanted Amber and Adam.
"Emilie?" Nick called her name from the bottom of the stairs. "Are you all right?"
She looked down at him, giving him a dazzling smile. "Fine! I was just trying to decide what smelled so good!"
Nick felt his face pull into a stupid grin, despite his best intentions to stay aloof from her. All it took was a smile to start his blood pumping. "It's breakfast. I thought since you cooked yesterday that I'd cook today."
He turned back towards the kitchen, letting her follow him. Amber and Adam were already eating as was Aunt Joda. The kitchen was warm and fragrant with the smell of coffee and toast.
"When did you start eating breakfast?" Emilie asked her aunt, surprised to see her at the table.
Joda swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs and stared at her. "Today."
"That's what I thought."
Nick moved around the kitchen, pouring coffee and adding food to plates. He was cheerful now after he’d made his peace with his feelings for Emilie. He was going to be friendly, but not personal. He was going to be her brother. They could be friends.
Seeing her getting out of bed had almost proved his undoing. Even though the white eyelet nightgown covered so much more than it revealed, his mind had wandered to her creamy breasts and the way she'd felt against him last night in that ridiculous chair.
All his hours of promises, his master plan, had almost been for nothing. She smiled at him. He smiled back. He wanted to put his arms around her. He wanted to seduce her.
He’d walked out of the room with Amber and taken a deep breath. He could do this one thing right.
Emilie watched Nick sit down at the table and eat his breakfast. Adam grinned at her in the ensuing silence and Amber made a mess with her scrambled eggs on her plate.
"Do you work today?" It was Sunday, after all. Surely it was a legitimate question. No one worked seven days a week, did they?
"Not unless someone has an emergency," he replied briefly.
She and Adam exchanged glances and he mouthed the words
'Christmas tree'
at her.
"We were going to go out and get a tree.”
"That's fine.”
"You could come and help us." She knew the children would like to have him there. She knew
she’d
like to have him there.
"I have to look over a few things," he told her without looking up.
"That’s okay. We can handle it, can't we, Adam?"
"Sure," he agreed quickly, thinking about the adventure of cutting down his own tree.
Finally, Nick leveled his dark gaze at her, his mouth grim. "You don't have to go to any extra trouble for us, Emilie."
"It’s no trouble. We have a tree every year."
"Joda told me that you have a little tree on a table," he accused. "A little
fake
tree."
Joda shrugged and left the table.
Emilie poked at the eggs on her plate, looking for the right words.
"Don't you like eggs?" Nick asked.
"Oh, I love eggs. And these eggs are wonderful. Just perfect. Thank you."
"Emilie?"
"About the Christmas tree.” She’d come up with a plan. “Joda is right. That’s what we usually do. She didn't realize that the little artificial tree was ruined last year. Flooding in the storage building."
"Flooding?" He nodded, sipping his coffee. "In the storage building?"
"Yes!" She looked up at him, challenging him to call her a liar.
"Why not get another one then?"
"Because I want to have a big, real tree this year, if that's all right with you," she spat back at him, standing up from the table. "I can do that, you know."
"You can," he agreed. "This is your house."
"Thank you!"
Three pairs of eyes followed her away from the table. Amber looked away from her. She decided to put her mouth on the plate for the last of the eggs instead of using her spoon.
"Amber!" Nick scolded.
"I think she's mad at you, Uncle Nick," Adam told him.
"Amber’s mad at me?” Nick cleaned up the girl's egg-spattered face.
"Nope. Emilie."
"It's just as well," Nick muttered, setting Amber down from her highchair.
"Don't you like her?" Adam questioned, his tone questioning that there could be anyone who didn't like Emilie.
"I like her a little
too
well," Nick admitted darkly.
"Don't you
want
to like her?" Adam prodded his uncle.
"It's hard to explain," Nick told him, uneasily. "Why don't you take your sister and go play in the foyer until Emilie is ready to go out for the tree. I'm going to clean up this mess."
"Okay." Adam took Amber's hand and led his sister away from the table.
Joda came back into the kitchen, clearing her throat as she poured herself a cup of herbal tea.
Nick turned and glared at her.
"Good for the throat," she told him. "I have a little cough. Nothing serious."
"It doesn't matter, you know." He picked up the children's plates. "I know who I am and I know nothing is going to happen between Emilie and me. You don't have to worry, Joda."
"Worry?" She laughed. "I never worry! I leave that to younger people with more time than me. I watch and wait to see what happens next."
"Nothing's going to happen," he repeated bluntly. "What you saw last night was a mistake. It won't happen again."
"Who can say what will or won't happen? Things have a way of happening when we least expect it."
Nick searched her lined and wrinkled face, seeing a great deal of Emilie's beauty in the old woman's countenance. In her time, she'd probably been as lovely as her niece.